The Hustle
by MonDieu666
Summary: Daryl just wanted to have a contained night out with his brother but Merle attracts trouble like nobody he's ever known. Daryl can't help but get mixed up when a stranger tries to play his brother. Set before TWD, oneshot.


**AN: I know this is going to sound lazy but this isn't intended to be a masterpiece but more a quick dip into the brain of Daryl Dixon. I feel like I'm losing his voice a little in my other story so I did a quick trip back to his roots and this came out. It was more just a bit of casual fun and I hope you guys enjoy it. **

Daryl Dixon was in another dive bar in another dive town. A dive town he'd been calling home but he couldn't imagine he'd be doing that for much longer. Merle had blown in just last night and in true Merle style threatened to upset the tenuous roots Daryl had put down.

Daryl had been sleeping in a crappy motel that was a lot less crappy than other motel's he'd stayed in before. He'd had some pretty solid work with a mechanic who seemed to understand that Daryl's presence was temporary and was cool with it. Yep, life had been good.

Until Merle had rolled in with all the subtlety of a bowling ball. It always struck Daryl as remarkable that Merle never seemed to change. Rain, hail or incarceration his brother was always the same larger than life character who viewed life as a game. Merle's sole purpose was to get as much as he could out of it, regardless of who he trod on along the way.

It was always like this. Merle would disappear for a few months. Usually to chase some scam pipe dream or to achieve a high induced oblivion. That was always followed by the inevitable time spent in the slammer. Never long, Merle wasn't exactly a criminal master mind. Sure he was sneaky and devious and Daryl would never be surprised if one day he woke up missing a kidney because Merle needed cash; but he was never outright evil.

So Merle would vanish into thin air and Daryl would move on. He could never stay long in a town after Merle had been through. He was like a hurricane and once he'd gone, all eyes turned to Daryl, blaming him as if this blood relation was something he chose.

Daryl would build up some semblance of stability but never allowed himself to get attached. He knew the return of Merle was inevitability. Daryl was never quite sure how Merle managed to find him. It was inexplicable the way he tracked him down, it wasn't like Daryl left a forwarding address. Then again Merle had been the one to teach Daryl all he knew about hunting. Well Merle, trial and error, and going hungry.

And of course, Merle had to arrival in style. He could never just knock on the door or phone Daryl first.

Last night Daryl had woken up to the terrifying sensation of a hand pressing against his mouth. Reacting quickly, Daryl had snatched for the knife he kept on the night stand and slashed at his attacker.

His attacker had dipped away quickly and started to laugh. Daryl knew it was Merle from the gloating tone of his chuckle. Daryl considered just packing then. But if he left straight away then Merle would follow him on the road. Merle needed to have his fun first. He needed to satisfy his urge for mischief and run havoc with Daryl's life before he would be content to end their brother bonding time.

Merle had dragged Daryl out with him that night and he was already drunk. Merle hadn't seen fit to enlighten Daryl as to where he'd been for the six months but judging from the way he hit the booze Daryl was going to jail. Again.

Daryl nursed a beer, taking sporadic sips. Merle had the habit of ruining alcohol for him. Daryl liked to get trashed as much as the next man but he was always on edge drinking with Merle. There had been a decade when Daryl had been in his twenties and a lot stupider when they had gone out, got rip roaring drunk and he'd felt invincible with his brother at his side. They'd fight, curse and drink until the sun came up and then do it all again the next night.

When he was twenty-nine, Daryl bit off more than he could chew. He had targeted a man because he looked young and out of place. Daryl was being a bully and he had been confident he could take him. He had underestimate the kid and he'd put a knife in Daryl's gut.

That was the time Daryl decided to pull his head in some. It was one thing to have fun but there was no way he could keep up this reckless living and survive. It was about then he began to view Merle's surprise visits with trepidation instead of eagerness. Merle had the devil's luck with him and had never had that close a brush with death, not that Daryl even thought it would teach him anything. Merle would just laugh it off and ask what was one more scar to the collection?

Daryl now tried to stay sober. Someone needed a cool head to try and defuse the messes Merle inevitably caused. And failing that, he had to be able to fight properly. He didn't want to chance another pup sticking him with a blade again.

The bar was dingy and rowdy. The perfect environment for things to get out of control. The ratio of men to women, heavily favoured the masculine gender. Nothing like a testosterone heavy bar to get a good brawl going. Daryl always thought the women that dared this place were brave or stupid. They certainly didn't raise the tone of the establishment.

Merle slid him a shot of whiskey with a grin. "You gone soft on me, brother?"

Daryl scowled. Weakness was always a red flag to Merle. Without any hesitation he threw back the finger of liquor. It was cheap and nasty, burning all the way from his tongue to his stomach.

Merle nodded approvingly. "I was startin' t'worry."

"Shit, I ain't no pussy," Daryl said defiantly.

"Well that's up for debate," Merle teased, slapping Daryl hard on the back. Merle's eyes were scanning the crowd and Daryl knew he was looking for a fight or a fuck. Merle's stance was steady and it was only because Daryl knew him so well that he recognised his big brother's intoxication.

The Dixon's may not have gotten a lot of blessings but a super human tolerance for alcohol was one of them. The amount of booze it would take for Merle to pass out would probably kill an elephant.

"Well looky there," Merle said appreciatively. "That's a woman I'd like ta put on her knees."

Daryl turned to see the rest of the bar. He had scoped out most of the women himself when they'd first come in. Merle's tastes were a little broader than Daryl's and he'd always held the attitude that quantity beat out quality.

"You don't like her face, ya just turn her 'round," had always been his crude advice.

Still Daryl didn't remember seeing anyone that would tempt Merle. He found her quickly. She had just walked in and already she drew every eye in the bar. The men were curious and the women were prepared to be hostile.

Daryl tracked her progress to the bar. The woman wasn't that pretty but it was all relative and in this bar she was the closest thing to a super model they had. She didn't look like the type to visit a bar like this. Daryl couldn't put his finger on it but he just got the sense she didn't belong.

She reached the bar and leaned across the stained wood to give her order. Her jeans looked painted on and Daryl had to admit from behind she gave a nice view.

Daryl could see the clogs ticking in Merle's head.

"I don't think she'd be interested in an old coot like you," Daryl told him. She didn't look much past mid twenty.

"You'd be amazed at the miracles alcohol can achieve," Merle said straightening up.

Daryl stifled a groan. He'd as good as painted a target on the poor bitch's back.

The bartender was sliding her a beer and she rewarded him with a smile. There was a gleam of something in her eyes. For all that Daryl thought she looked out of place, she was obviously completely at ease.

The woman relaxed at the bar, watching the crowd attentively. Daryl thought she was gutsy coming here by herself but then again maybe she was meeting someone. That would be his luck. Merle would end up in a scuffle with her boyfriend or something.

Her eyes alighted on the Dixon brothers and Merle's smirk turned obnoxious. He slapped the back of his hand against Daryl's chest. "Watch an' learn, Darylina."

Merle strutted up to the woman. Arrogance was not something Merle was ever short of. When he wanted to, Merle could be the most charming son of a bitch you'd ever meet. Problem was, he rarely wanted to. But when a pretty girl was concerned, Merle would turn on that southern magic and have them out of their panties in the time it would take Daryl to ask for their name. Daryl was definitely more circumspect when it came to approaching women.

Merle's approach was aggressive but the woman was unperturbed. She cocked her head and waited for him to come to her. She took a casual sip of her beer and watched Merle with a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Daryl trailed behind his brother, feeling like a chaperone. As he got closer he thought he might have been hasty dismissing her as not being pretty. Her eyes were bright, flashing with intelligence and she had a nice smile. Merle might almost be out of luck with this one and Daryl found that idea amusing.

"Daryl, this here is Sabrina," Merle introduced the woman with a flourish.

Her smile deepened when Merle used her name like she was amused and she reached across to offer her hand to Daryl.

"That your real name?" he asked bluntly, taking the proffered hand. Her nails were painted a brilliant red.

"For tonight," she answered, her smile never faltering. Her voice was huskier than Daryl anticipated and he thought it was a bit sexy.

"When we start judgin' people for havin' a little mystery?" Merle asked.

He was laying it on a bit thick in Daryl's opinion but 'Sabrina' didn't seem to mind. What did he care about her using a fake name? There were plenty of harmless reasons. She could be here to have an affair or something like that. It was the kind of place people came to scratch their filthiest of itches.

Sabrina's accent wasn't southern but Daryl was having a hard time identifying just where it came from. He suspected she was a bit of a nomad like himself and no twang had stuck with her.

"I was jist challengin' her to a game of pool," Merle explained for Daryl's benefit.

"And I was asking what's in it for me?"

"How 'bout a kiss?" Merle proposed. Daryl rolled his eyes.

"How 'bout money," Sabrina countered. Daryl's looked at the woman suspiciously now. Was she playing Merle? Daryl dismissed the idea. There were other drunker targets in the bar.

"Kiss is a bit more poetic," Merle continued to flirt.

"Kisses don't buy me drinks," Sabrina retorted. Daryl sized her up. She had fire in her and no mistake.

"Baby, you stick with me an' you ain't gonna be wantin' for no drinks."

"Boy, you southern gents sure talk pretty."

Daryl caught the faintest hint of sarcasm in her tone and tried not to smile. Merle was completely oblivious of course. Hell, who was Daryl to protest? Merle could afford to learn some humility and being schooled by a girl in pool was one way to go about things. Daryl would keep an eye and things would stay in hand.

Merle tugged Sabrina towards the pool table. The men playing took one look at Merle and wrapped up their game. Merle gave off an intimidating vibe and it wasn't late enough in the evening for people to be flushed with Dutch courage just yet.

Merle wrangled up three beers from the bar and Daryl was stuck with the one he hadn't finished and a fresh one. Sabrina must have finished her first one faster than he thought because he couldn't see another bottle in sight.

"Time to man up," she told Merle. Sabrina pulled a fifty from her pocket and put it on the edge of the pool table. Merle laughed and added one of his own on top.

"Ladies first," Merle said magnanimously after racking the balls. Sabrina held her cue delicately between her fingers. Merle was transfixed as she ran her fingers along the wood and even Daryl had to admit it was pretty seductive even if it was blatant.

She bent over the table, lining up her shot.

Merle circled around so he could watch her from behind. "Damn girl, if you ain't distractin' in that position."

"I aim to be," Sabrina said, throwing a blinding grin over her shoulder. Daryl wanted to smack the pair of them.

The shot went wide and only a few balls wiggled free from the pack.

"Fuck," Sabrina swore expressively. She looked sheepish and darted a quick look at the money.

"That's a sweet sound. I like a woman comfortable enough t'use that kinda language," Merle said with a grin, looming into her personal space. Sabrina held her own and merely shrugged.

Cockily Merle took his own shot and sunk three balls in quick succession.

Daryl grinned himself. He was worried that his brother had been too drunk to play this girl but it seems Merle's skills ran deep.

"You look mighty comfortable handlin' a stick," he told Merle, casually taking a pull of his drink. He was starting to relax. This girl was effectively holding Merle's attention and that was greatly diminishing the chances of violence.

"Not as big as I'm used ta holdin' but it'll serve," Merle said with a wink.

Daryl regretted that time and experience had soured their relationship some. He loved his brother and always enjoyed the way they could slip into easy banter.

Daryl realised his comments had drawn Sabrina's attention to him properly for the first time.

Daryl was uncomfortable under her steady stare. "Can I help ya with something?" he demanded rudely.

Sabrina looked curious. "I had you pegged for the strong, silent type."

Daryl really didn't have an answer for that and was glad when Sabrina finally had the chance to take another shot. She pocketed her first ball and grinned with glee. She high fived Merle, who took it good naturedly. After all, his brother had a different end game in sight.

Merle took a break to go find some more alcohol for the trio. Daryl didn't know where his brother had come by all the cash he was spending. Probably illegally.

Sabrina leaned against the wall next to him.

"So what do you do, Daryl?"

"Mechanic," he answered efficiently.

Sabrina didn't seem deterred. She was oddly comfortable with the Dixon brothers. The silence stretched on and Daryl felt compelled to break it.

"What 'bout you?"

"Things."

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "You don't like giving straight answers, do ya?"

"Not particularly," she answered with unapologetically. "You could be a psycho."

"So could you," Daryl observed dryly.

That surprised a laugh from Sabrina. It was the first expression he had seen that didn't look calculated and planned in some way. Most people wouldn't have picked up on the difference but Daryl was more observant than most. He'd gotten very good at reading facial expressions during his childhood and what they meant for him. Sabrina was a wolf in sheep's clothing if ever he saw one.

What was more interesting was the fact that Merle, who could usually smell bullshit a mile off, was not in the least bit concerned about Sabrina. Maybe Daryl was being paranoid but it was more likely Merle just didn't think this girl was much of a threat.

When Merle returned Sabrina threw one last amused look Daryl's way and then he might as well have been invisible.

Sabrina lost, not spectacularly but enough to frustrate her. Daryl saw a very real look of sadness pass across her features as Merle pocketed the money.

Sabrina ran her fingers down Merle's arm enticingly. Daryl saw she swayed slightly and wondered how much the pair of them had drunk. "One more game?" she purred.

"You wanna play so bad, I'm sure we can arrange some other entertainment," Merle said suggestively.

"But I like pool," she pouted. "I'll sweeten the deal with a kiss."

Merle's eyes lit up like a kid offered candy and Daryl was disgusted with the easy way he gave in to her cooing.

"Double or nothing!" Merle suggested brashly.

Sabrina's eyes sparked. "Deal," she said swiftly. Merle lumbered to fix the balls again and Sabrina shot Daryl a wolfish smile. Daryl hastened to work out how much his brother had drunk. Normally he wouldn't give a shit, it was Merle's money and Sabrina didn't look like the type to take a crowbar to his kneecaps to get money he owed her. But if Merle ended up broke then that meant Daryl was going to have a guest on his couch far longer than expected.

Sabrina invited Merle to go first and unsurprisingly he missed his shot. Sabrina staggered over to take her shot. As soon as she lined it up all signs of drunkenness vanished.

With a wink at Daryl, she began pocketing shots like a pro. Daryl groaned. Even stupid Merle couldn't ignore the evidence any more. Sabrina was just trying to hustle them.

Merle narrowed his eyes. "You bitch!"

"I thought I was your baby," Sabrina said, patting Merle's check as she slid passed to sink another ball. She was ballsy, Daryl would give her that. It wasn't that she was unaware that she was enraging Merle, it was just that she didn't seem to care.

Her stance was changing and Daryl was beginning to see glimpses of the real Sabrina. Her eyes were a little sharper and her smile a little cooler.

The game was an embarrassment to watch and Daryl grimaced the whole way through it, waiting for the moment that Merle got pushed over the edge and blew up.

Sabrina took the two hundred dollars and ginned at Merle. He looked murderous but stuck. Merle, for all his faults, had never raised a hand to a woman. And above all, he honoured a bet. He unleashed all his most colourful insults in her direction and even Daryl's ears were burning.

Sabrina just stood on her toes so she could press a kiss to Merle's cheek.

"There you go. I got my money and you got your kiss. We're even."

Merle stalked off to the bar, muttering. Daryl was regretting not intervening, now that Merle was definitely going to find someone to punch to take his anger out on. Then again, seeing his brother played so completely by a girl gave Daryl a kick.

Sabrina's gaze shifted to Daryl. "You knew what I was doing the whole time, didn't you?"

Daryl nodded. "Was pretty obvious to see."

Sabrina shook her head. "You'd be surprised how few people catch on. Why did you let me take your brother?"

"I couldn't have stopped him if I wanted to. Merle does what Merle wants."

"Yeah I got the sense," Sabrina agreed.

"That's why you picked him, right?" Daryl asked. He'd seen plenty of hustlers work but never had one stick around to have a conversation. She wasn't very worried about the wrath of Merle.

The smile was back and the full force of it was turned on Daryl. He could sort of understand Merle's helplessness in the face of that smile. Made him feel like he was the only one in the bar.

"Mighta had something to do with it," Sabrina admitted. "Still doesn't explain why you let me."

"Merle's right. You're a bitch but you ain't dangerous. Merle shoulda known better and if he don't then he deserves to get took." Daryl meant what he said. Most of the year Daryl wasn't there to watch after Merle and his brother should be more aware of the situation.

"I kissed the wrong brother, you're the smart one."

Daryl flushed. It wasn't often he was called smart. He had never really considered being perceptive as a particular talent.

Merle was walking back, staring death at the pair of them.

"I think it's time I take my leave. You boys have a good night."

Sabrina took a few steps away, paused and then returned.

"There is a high stakes poker game in town tonight," she said.

"You're tellin' us this why?" Merle growled. "You already have my money."

"You come with and I'll cut you in when I win," Sabrina offered.

"How much we talkin'?" Merle asked. His greed overrode his indignation.

"A lot. This money gives me the entry fee. But I'm not talking to you. I want him," Sabrina pointed at Daryl.

"Why would ya cut me in?" Daryl asked suspiciously.

"Maybe I feel bad?"

"Try again."

Sabrina looked defeated. "It's a nasty crowd. Wouldn't mind having some muscle backing me up, if that's ok with you, handsome?"

Daryl looked at the woman, who appeared to be telling the truth. On the one hand he didn't trust her but on the other he could use the cash to set himself up when he had to move.

"Do I have to play?"

"Just be my arm candy. You're pretty sharp, I could use you to see if I'm being played or shit is going to get out of control. I get the sense you're used to doing that." She shot a pointed look at Daryl.

Daryl really wanted the money and more than that he wanted the adventure. He had been playing it safe and he missed the rush that came from straying on the edge of danger. He also suspected Sabrina was able to take care of herself and was probably a lot smarter at threat analysis than Merle was.

"Fifty percent," he demanded.

"Thirty," Sabrina countered.

Daryl snorted. "Lady, you think I come cheap?"

She looked very much like she wanted to say something derogatory but she restrained herself. "Fine," she said and Daryl realised she was genuinely afraid of the people that would be at the game. There was no reason to split the money otherwise. Daryl wondered why it was worth the risk for her.

"Leave your pit bull," Sabrina instructed, referring to Merle. He looked at his brother. If he left him there was no telling what kind of trouble he'd get into. But if Daryl stayed to take care of him, Merle would see straight through it and kick his ass for being presumptuous. There was no easy path with Merle, just the lesser of two evils.

"Let's go," he grunted.

Sabrina finger waved at Merle as they left. Daryl led the way to his bike and Sabrina whistled appreciatively.

"Can I drive? Or are you one of those men who only let a woman drive in bed?"

Was she flirting with him? It was hard to tell. Most women who wanted Daryl for that kind of thing were usually the type that asked outright.

Daryl didn't answer, assuming his stony silence was enough of an answer. Sabrina got on behind him, pressing her body closer to him than was necessary. Daryl could smell the scents of the bar on her skin but underneath that the barest hint of perfume.

Daryl swallowed. The bike roared into life. Sabrina shouted the directions in his ear and Daryl wasn't surprised she had asked him to come along. That was a bar even seedier than the one they had been at. It was more likely to house gang members and drug dealers. Maybe she should have brought Merle; he would have felt right at home.

Daryl knew that he looked intimidating in his own way. Daryl couldn't deny he was pretty damn angry at the world for the shit he had taken and that tended to simmer close to the surface.

They got of the bike and Sabrina tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and leaned close to him. "So you got a girlfriend?"

"You ask me here for a date or t'watch your back?" he demanded.

"Can't it be a bit of both?" Sabrina asked innocently. The bitch always had an answer for everything.

"No," he said shortly. He didn't need her distracting him.

"Your loss," she said teasingly. Sabrina was leading him, walking her way through the crowded bar to the back room. There was muscle at the door and he looked them up and down. They must have looked a strange pair. Well dressed Sabrina and red neck Daryl.

Sabrina just handed over a very sizeable wad of cash. Looking at her tight jeans, Daryl couldn't fathom where she had been hiding it. The money earned them entry without any questions.

The game was already dealt with one empty spot waiting. There were five spots in total.

"Claire, didn't think you'd make it."

It took Daryl a second to work out that Sabrina was Claire.

"Got held up," Sabrina said smoothly, pulling out the chair and slouching in it. They looked at Daryl and he realised he was expected to take the seat next to her. He'd never seen anything like it. It looked like all the players had brought their own cheer team.

Apart from Sabrina, the players were all male and mean looking. They had girls sitting next to them that were wearing a lot less than Sabrina.

It was warm and Sabrina shucked off her jacket. Daryl saw that she had an elaborate tribal designed tattooed from her elbow to shoulder on her right arm. It was a pretty nice piece of art.

"Who is that?" The man who spoke before asked the question, nodding towards Daryl. Daryl guessed he was the leader considering the rest of the men were silent. Daryl took an instant dislike to him. He was one of those douche bags who wore sunglasses indoors. Daryl internally nicknamed him Douche Bag.

Sabrina picked up her cards. "My good luck charm," she answered, examining her hand. Daryl would have been afraid they'd been tampered with before she got there but he supposed a poker den was only as good as their reputations. If word got round they cheated, no one would come.

One of the other men at the table, an African American with a long scar running his cheek, snorted.

Sabrina smiled easily. "I didn't say that's all he was."

All eyes turned to him and Daryl met their stares confidently. Men like this responded to strength. If he gave off the vibe he wasn't to be fucked with they'd hopefully respect that until he gave them reason not to.

Sabrina was a pretty good player, it turned out but his quick eyes saw things that she didn't. Daryl reached down to squeeze her knee when he realised Douche Bag was bluffing on a hand.

Sabrina played when the others folded and ended up winning on a pair of jacks.

Douche bag glared as the dealer pushed the money towards Sabrina.

"You got balls, Claire."

"Yeah, they're huge. You wanna see?" she sassed, making a show of counting her money. Instead of being mad Douche Bag looked turned on. How long had she been in this town? Was she leading all the men around by their dicks?

Players would get up and buy drinks, rove around the room and talk to people. Daryl thought he was witnessing one of the most informal games of poker ever but he quickly realised that they were all too scared of each other to risk cheating.

Sabrina leaned into him during one of the many hiatuses. Daryl easily put his arm over her shoulders, playing along. She was doing well but she still felt tense against him. Daryl was confused by this woman. Was she a hustler or not?

Taking the opportunity for a minute of privacy, he bent close to her ear.

"Why do ya want the money?" His lips deliberately brushed her ear and she actually shuddered.

"To save a life," she said seriously, looking up at him.

"That the truth?"

"It's my truth," Sabrina answered cryptically before standing up. She actually looked uncomfortable. Daryl had hit a nerve there. He watched as she hugged one of the other players. He could tell from the tightness around her mouth that she didn't actually like the guy. The man had an eastern European accent and Daryl was glad they had managed to ensure all the poker clichés were represented.

"We here to play or not?" Douche Bag demanded, ignoring the fact it had been him swanning around the room for half the time.

The others dutifully sat down and play resumed. Daryl noticed that Eastern European was reaching in his pockets, looking confused.

Sabrina's jacket had been put back on despite the warmth in the room. Something was setting off warning bells for Daryl.

Sabrina wasn't just a con artist. She was an out and out thief. A god damned pick pocket on top of everything. They were going to get caught and there was no way any of the men in the room were going to believe he had nothing to do with. Daryl's rage was bubbling. She hadn't brought him along because she thought he was smarter than Merle, Sabrina had just realised he was stupid in a different way.

Daryl discreetly felt his own pockets. His own wallet was missing. Looking around the room, he realised he needed an out. He would just get up and walk away. Surely Sabrina wouldn't draw attention to his exit.

Having these guys and their goons after him wasn't worth the money. Daryl was normally happy to fight his way out of a situation but he didn't have a death wish. He actually wanted Merle to be here. If there was any time Merle's feral scrapping was going to come in handy, this was it.

He never got an opportunity.

Sweet as pie, Sabrina said, "have any of you seen my bracelet? I was wearing it earlier?"

Daryl knew she hadn't been wearing a bracelet earlier. He'd watched her slim wrists as she'd fingered through her cards.

That served as a trigger for the Eastern European. "My wallet is missing too."

There was a second of deadly calm and then an explosion of chaos as the men checked themselves and realised they were missing watches and other valuables. Their female partners hastily grabbed for their jewellery but Sabrina had only targeted the men it seemed.

Daryl could have throttled the woman. She had to have the nimblest fingers in the south. Probably she had distracted them with just the right amount of womanly charm.

Douche Bag jabbed an accusing finger in his direction. "Check the stranger."

Daryl could see where this was going like a car accident he couldn't stop. It was just like these tools to turn directly to violence.

"I ain't got nothin'!" Daryl spat, emptying his pockets. "In fact all my money is gone! This bitch here took it!" He stabbed a finger at Sabrina.

"Claire?" Douche Bag looked genuinely affected. Probably Sabrina made it a habit of being sweet to all the dangerous people in town before she robbed them.

Sabrina was delivering an Oscar winning performance, with tears and stuttering. She pulled away from Daryl, throwing him firmly in scape goat territory. One of the body guards grabbed him by his shoulders. Daryl jerked out of his grip and punched him solidly in the jaw.

The man was bulky but Daryl was lean with wiry muscle. The thug staggered back but the punch had lit the fuse on the bomb. Fighting erupted around the room and there were high pitched screams. There were no clear sides in the fight but Daryl especially knew no one was on his. He lashed out at anyone who came to close.

Douche Bag managed to land a hit that grazed his cheek bone. More embarrassed then injured, Daryl kneed him in the gut and upper cut him under the chin. The man reeled back into the wall and when he went down, he stayed down. Daryl plucked the glasses off his face and ground them under the heel of his boot with a malicious grin.

This petty action meant he didn't see the African American sneak up on him. Daryl turned just in time to get an arm bar across the throat.

"Where are my drugs?" the man hissed. Daryl readjusted his assessment of Sabrina. She wasn't just devious, she was insane. Stealing a man's stash was borderline suicidal.

The Eastern European saw this and decided to team up with the black man, grabbing hold of Daryl's arms. It was a weak grip but between that and the choke hold, Daryl was pinned.

"Don't have 'em, dumbass," Daryl ground out, starting to see spots in front of his eyes.

The man strangling him had a crazy gleam in his eyes and Daryl knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Thankfully a bottle came from nowhere and smashed over his head. He slumped to the floor to reveal Sabrina standing behind, still clutching the broken neck of glass. Daryl tore free and, feeling especially brutish, head butted the Eastern European.

"Didn't think I should leave you to die," Sabrina said with a wicked grin. Daryl saw she had a long cut above her eyebrow. Daryl was glad she hadn't escaped completely unscathed.

On the other hand: "I'm gonna kill you myself," Daryl snarled, reaching out for the woman. But she danced away and then the fight was between them again. Daryl watched, furious, as Sabrina slipped out the door. His anger fuelled him through the last of the fight.

As soon as he was able, he made a break for it himself. Daryl was limping and he knew he'd feel like shit tomorrow. He'd have to leave this shit hole town as soon as possible. Those men were all local players. At least they hadn't been given his name.

When he got back to his room, he realised Merle was nowhere in sight. Daryl knew that eventually he'd have to go hunt down his older brother, who was probably passed out in a ditch somewhere, but right now his body hurt too much to even contemplate it.

When Daryl flicked on the lights, he stopped dead. Sitting in the middle of the floor was a pile of cash, his wallet and a very nice watch. Warily, he looked around. He quickly checked the bathroom but he was alone in the motel room.

Daryl sidled up to the money, hesitant to touch it. There were a couple of thousand there easy. Plenty of money to pick up and move on once he found Merle. Hell, _if_ he found Merle.

There was a business card on top. There was a phone number printed on one side and on the back someone had scribbled, _I definitely kissed the wrong brother. Call me if you ever need to make some quick cash. X. _

After a moment's thought, he pocketed the card. Daryl didn't think he'd ever use it but it wouldn't be so bad having a con artist owe him a favour.


End file.
